


Pre-gaming

by TrexReach100



Series: What a Charmer [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Plot What Plot, chris and cait are saucy, green couch is gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 07:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13184811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrexReach100/pseuds/TrexReach100
Summary: Five years later the couch is a distant (thank god) memory.  Five years later Chris has a new pre game ritual.He eats Caitlin out.





	Pre-gaming

**Author's Note:**

>  
> 
> _This is shameless smut and I ain't even sorry. Happy New Year folks._  
> 

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that any good goalie in possession of a brain and desire to play good hockey has weird pre game rituals.  Hockey players are a historically superstitious bunch but none more so than the goal tender.  That body, padded out to within an inch of their life, filling up a space that people spend over an hour firing a six ounce circle of rubber at their body at a hundred miles per hour, has to be, for their own piece of mind, for their very survival even, a person reliant on rituals that make no earthly sense.

Nobody can explain it.  Least of all Caitlin.  There is too much evidence to disprove the correlation between rituals and game wins, and yet Chowder just doesn’t feel right stepping on the ice before doing his good luck sequence.

When they graduated Cait was very concerned that the green couch pre game nap was going to throw him off, and it did for a while.

“Maybe we can take it.  I’m sure no one will mind.” Chow twists his fingers into the hem of his sharks hoodie.

“They’ll be delighted to have it gone.” Caitlin reassures him, only to wipe the elation from his face by finishing up with, “But if you take that couch with you I might have to reconsider our relationship.”

Chris looks at her aghast, “Over a couch?!”

“That is the genital warts of couches baby.  It’s teeming with gross.  I’ll bet it could walk out of the house by itself if you called it.  That couch,” she points accusingly at it, “is a deal breaker.”

And because Chris loved her he nodded, albeit sadly, and they left the couch behind.

Five years later the couch is a distant (thank god) memory.  Five years later Chris has a new pre game ritual.

He eats Caitlin out.

She swears (she swears!) she did not force, or coax, or in any way design this to be so.

It started as all rituals do; innocently.  He was excited about the game and she was too.

“Oh God I’m so excited my heart hurts.”

“You’re heart hurts?” Cait turns to her side.

“It’s slamming against my ribs.” He grabs her hand, “Here feel.” And presses it to his chest.

She can feel his heart thumping strong beneath his skin.  It’s been five years since college, two years playing for the team and about a hundred pounds in muscle.  Chris is hot.  Caitlin pinches herself when she catches sight of him naked.  He is delicious and broad and his reflexes mean they’ve never broken a mug.  So when Chowder has her touching him a rush of heat floods her belly and something tugs between her legs.  Unable to help herself she drags her nails across to one of his nipples and he inhales sharply.

This is how it starts.

Her boyfriend is too good looking.

It’s entirely his fault.

Next thing she knows her thighs are trembling in the grip of his hands.  His tongue is a sweet punishment against that little bundle of nerves that is singing and cursing his ministrations.  She doesn’t know what she loves more, that he’s so good at it now or that he looks like he’s enjoying himself.  Chris doesn’t just set into the task because he knows it’s Cait’s favourite thing, he sets in like he was hoping she’d ask for it all along.

Her lower body tightens, the space he occupies growing more and more sensitive until everywhere he touches becomes erogenous.  He breaks away from her clit to suck a lip into his mouth and then he’s fucking her with his tongue.  The noises are obscene.

He laps and laps and she can feel the static build up all around her.  Just one moment.  One held breath.  One more suck.

Chris licks firmly once across her clit again and Cait’s entire body convulses.  She groans like her release hurts but it feels so good, better than good, it feels great.  Better than great.

Euphoric.

The final act is her sagging boneless into the mattress.  Chris doesn’t move immediately.  She can feel him catching his breath against her wet flesh and she limply reaches out to card her fingers through his hair.  Eventually Chris raises his chin to grin up at her from his spot and the sight of him smiling so giddily from between her legs set Cait into a fit of giggles.  Serotonin spurs them on and drags them out.  Chris has no choice but to crawl up her body and try to quiet her by pressing his lips to hers.  She tastes herself on his tongue.

“That good huh?” he whispers.

“It was alright.” She smirks but her voice is faraway and blissed out.

“You are so beautiful after you’ve come.” He growls into her hair.

That gets her attention.  “Only after?”

“Always.” He pecks her on the mouth, “But especially now.” He kisses her temple.  His erection presses into her side.

Her hand moves to cup him, “Want me to take care of you?”

Chris shakes his head with a smile, “No.  Game day remember?” He shoots up right and beams down at her, “Was I so good I made you forget what day it was?”

Cait squints at him, “If I say yes,” she asks slowly, “are you gonna gloat?”

“Yes.”

Cait grins, “Then yes.”

“Oh baby.” Chris swoons.


End file.
